


The Making of The Marauder's Map: Debut Album of The Marauders

by BreakfastLunchAndDinner, thegracious



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Actually post-punk emo band, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Alternate Universe - Rock Band, Crack, Gen
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-08-14
Updated: 2015-08-14
Packaged: 2018-04-14 15:23:29
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4569504
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BreakfastLunchAndDinner/pseuds/BreakfastLunchAndDinner, https://archiveofourown.org/users/thegracious/pseuds/thegracious
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>“I wish we were part of a group that had creative license to do whatever kind of music we wanted.” James slumped over his sheets, defeated. </p>
<p>The next time they were in the Potters’ garage, Sirius had already had a drum set, a guitar, and a bass delivered.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Making of The Marauder's Map: Debut Album of The Marauders

I.

It started in James’ garage. Sirius was whining.

“I don’t see why I have to play the stupid violin. Why couldn’t they have just put me on the triangle? Then I could have just slept through the whole class and no one would’ve noticed.”

“You know, most people actually _want_ to be first violin, Sirius,” Remus sighed.

“Well, I’m not one of them.” Sirius scowled. “I fucking hate strings, man. I wish I got put into percussion.”

James wasn’t listening – he was too busy glaring at the sheets for his part on acoustic guitar in distaste. “They’ve got me doing _chords_. That’s just so… plebeian. Ugh.”

“At least you get variations,” Remus consoled . “And you get to take your instruments home.”

Sirius snorted. “It’s not like you have to practice playing G infinitely on the double bass, Remus. You don’t need it.”

“I wish we were part of a group that had creative license to do whatever kind of music we wanted.” James slumped over his sheets, defeated.

The next time they were in the Potters’ garage, Sirius had already had a drum set, a guitar, and a bass delivered.

 

II.

Sirius shook dog collars at Remus and James. “This for our bad boy image, guys! We can’t have a punk rock band without leather and guyliner!”

“I’m not wearing that,” James yelled.

“No,” Remus said flatly, and that was that.

 

III.

The first song they played was a fifteen-minute monstrosity that Sirius had written.

It said very unflattering things about his mother.

Mrs. Potter heard it, and made them change it. Then she gave them cookies.

“But – punk rock,” Sirius said weakly as she left.

 

IV.

They decided to call their band The Marauders. Sirius insisted on playing the drums, and James took guitar. Remus sighed, picked up the bass, and resigned himself to playing G infinitely in varying rhythms.

“You can write all of your parts yourself, Remus!” James encouraged, through a mouthful of cookie. “Imagine – bass lines that don’t repeat notes!”

“Actually impossible, if you want to keep it somewhat melodic, but I see what you mean.”

It was sad, Remus reflected, how James and Sirius deluded themselves into thinking that they could bend all rules of music, and keep in tune at the same time. Still, there’s nothing wrong with dreaming.

Mrs. Potter’s cookies were very good.

 

V.

The first time James tried to write a song, it said many flattering things about Lily Evans.

Remus and Sirius looked at the sheets, and said, “We’re not playing this.”

James sulked. “But you’re my wingmen! Help a brother out, guys!”

“ _I know that you call me toerag/ But that doesn’t mean we cannot bang/ But I just want this one dance / If you’d give it to me, Evans.”_ Remus read. “The stresses seem to be quite off,” he commented diplomatically.

“Moony means that your song is a piece of shit,” Sirius summarized. “We’re not playing that. But if you want a song for Evans…”

 

VI.

That resulted into their first passable song – ‘I’ve Only Got One Lily’.

When Evans heard it, she punched James in the face.

“You also only have one nose, and I’ve broken it,” she said nastily, before storming off to the library.

 

VII.

“What you need,” Regulus said contemplatively, “is a SoundCloud.”

“Really?” Sirius asked, perking up. “You think our music is good enough to go public?”

“No,” his brother said simply. “But your public humiliation would be so satisfying.”

Sirius made one anyway. They only had one song uploaded. It said very unflattering things about Regulus.

 

VIII.

Once James had learned that other chord progressions apart from C-F-Am-G existed, things started picking up for The Marauders. There were always arguments about lyrics, though – if Sirius kept writing things, the song would inevitably be fifty percent ‘fuck’ and twenty-five percent insults to various people in their acquaintance. If James wrote it, it would be a hundred percent about Evans, and he would one hundred percent be punched in the face by Evans.

“Remus, you’ve got high marks in English,” Sirius said slowly. “You could probably write a song.”

“Sirius,” Remus explained, “I only have higher marks than you in English because I take the time to actually write out the words legibly.”

But Remus went along with it, and the next week, he handed Sirius and James a few drafts.

“Lunar Cycle, Distant Moon, Lunar Distraction, Toxic Night… What is this?”

“I can only write rock songs under the cover of darkness,” he deadpanned.

The next month, they released their first EP – “Under The Cover of Darkness”.

 

IX.

Regulus, browsing through The Marauders’ SoundCloud, noted the release of their first EP.

He was also the first to comment.

_regulus.black: A post-punk emo band. How predictable, Sirius._

Remus refused to write ‘Regulus is a prat’ into their next song, no matter how much Sirius begged him to do it.

 

X.

Despite Regulus’ disdain, their first EP was actually quite good, and not long after its release, the Potters received a call from someone named Rosmerta.

“Hullo, am I speaking to The Marauders?”

“Oh no, you’ve reached the Potter household. But my son James is in a band, you know. They do make an awful racket, but if you want to speak to him, I’ll fetch him for you.”

James took the call, with both Remus and Sirius hovering anxiously behind him.

 

XI.

That Wednesday night, Mrs. Potter drove all three of them to the Three Broomsticks for their first-ever gig.

“Toodle-oo!” she called, as she drove away in her minivan. But not before she had snapped photographs of all three of them standing in the kerb in their matching leather jackets (Sirius insisted).

“This is going into your baby book, James,” Sirius snickered.

“Like she doesn’t have one for both of you yet,” James shot back, rolling his eyes.

“Excuse me, sir, but we’re scheduled to play tonight?” Remus told the big, buff bouncer by the door.

The bouncer raised his eyebrow. “This is a bar, kid. No minors allowed.”

The three of them glanced at each other.

“We’re not minors,” Sirius bluffed, trying to make his voice sound deeper than it actually is.

The guy laughed. “Your mother just drove you lot here in her minivan. She said ‘toodle-oo’. Did she give you cookies for snacks too?”

“No!” James protested.

She did.

 

XII.

“What we need,” Sirius said passionately, “is to be taken seriously.”

James snickered. “Heh. Seriously.”

Sirius ignored him, and continued. “So we need to write serious music, and write polite letters to studios with a copy of our stuff. I mean, as long as they have it, right? And we need more gigs. And we have to update our SoundCloud, and -"

His face broke out into a manic grin.

"YouTube!"

 

XIII. 

"This is going to end terribly," Remus warned.

"Be quiet, Moony," Sirius snapped back, making final adjustments to the video camera's tripod. "Now, let's go over the plans again. I'll be over there, drumming without my shirt on, and -"

"Screw this, I'm going!" James bellowed, and jumped on the skateboard, guitar strapped on his shoulder, and shot towards the hoops of fire they set up. The hundred meters of cord connecting James' electric guitar to the amp held, and he careened through the hoops while playing the opening riff of 'Prongs Through The Flames'.

"Wait, James, the camera hasn't started yet!"

 

XIV.

The views on their first video on YouTube were skyrocketing. They'd gotten featured in one of those 'What the hell were they thinking?' BuzzFeed posts.

Regulus was again, the first to comment.

_regulus.black: Your stupidity is amazing, but I have to commend your engineering skills. At least the hoops didn't break, even when Potter's leg did._

 

XV.

This time, though, Regulus wasn't the only one to comment.

_Qwaquali: He's so brave, going through the flames like that!_

_Exaltreat: What's the drummer's name? His abs are like a;dkfj_

_BabeTracker: those abs r delicious, aren't they?_

_Lovelorn.Fairy: has anybody heard their ep yet? under the cover of drakness? it just speaks 2 me, u know?_

_.:Soldier.of.Sorrow:.: do u know where to get a hard copy? I found their SoundCloud, but you can't download songs there_

_Fieldshow: That can't have been safe, what the hell were they thinking?_

_Abletrea: I watched them play at the Three Broomsticks last week, I thought they were pretty good, but whoah, they are more hardcore than I htought_

 

 XVI.

"I told you we'd all be better off shirtless," Sirius said smugly. "I bet half our views were just people ogling my abs. And James' ass."

"Leather pants paid off, hmm?" Remus said, behind the morning papers.

James was sitting on the floor of the garage, trying to untangle a whole bunch of wires and cords. "I can't believe this. I _just_ left these untangled yesterday, and now it's like they've fused together - wait, they _have_ fused together."

"Rubber melted in the heat, probably," Remus mused, turning a page in his paper.

 

XVII. 

That didn't stop them from recording more home music videos for the songs in their EP. Each had more fire, metal, danger, and leather than the last (although Remus was always in a white v-neck and jeans) until Mrs. Potter finally found their YouTube channel and put her foot down.

"James Potter!" she had screeched, "You aren't even out of your cast yet, and you think jumping out of a fourth floor window into a pile of mattresses is a good idea?"

 

XVIII.

They held back on the height-stunts after that. Sirius wouldn't give up his fire stunts, though, even when the fireworks shooting out of drums singed his eyebrows off.

Over dinner with Sirius' family one night, his mother finally noticed. She didn't notice the sprained wrist, busted ankle, and the second-degree burn on his leg, but the eyebrows...

"Sirius Black! What happened to your face?!"

"Lab accident," Sirius grunted into his soup.

Regulus scoffed. "A lab accident involving fireworks, perhaps?"

"Flame tests, Regulus," he growled back, "that's what they're called. You'd know if you paid more attention in chemistry."

Their single, 'Flame Test', came out a week later. The video featured Sirius drumming with two bundles of lit sparklers as sticks.

 

XIX.

"So my drums are busted," Sirius reported to his band, "but that's okay, I've ordered a new set already."

James frowned. "Is this about the sparkler incident? You could have just replaced the skins."

"I don't even want to ask where you get the money to buy all of this equipment," Remus intoned wryly. The Potters' garage could no longer garage their cars, filled to the brim as it was with speakers, amplifiers, drum sets, fireworks, and mattresses.

"Yeah, I could have, but I realized I needed a performing set and a stunt set. Also, my parents are filthy rich, Moony."

 

XX.

Eight months after they began their band, they had a full fifteen-song album, a logo, a cover photo, and five promotional videos. One of which had about fifty thousand views, thanks to the power of BuzzFeed and James in leather pants.

Unfortunately, they still had no record deal. And James still had no date.

**Author's Note:**

> Just for the lolz. We're taking a break from Game of Thrones right now, but not from band AU's!
> 
> If anyone's interested in Brit-picking this piece, please message us/comment/whatever. We'd really appreciate it!


End file.
